


Monsters Get Colds Too

by CreativeMagick



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Family Fluff, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:07:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeMagick/pseuds/CreativeMagick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans takes care of his little sick brother. Based on a conversation in tumblr user sushinfood's stream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters Get Colds Too

It was unusual. It was dusk, a normal awakening time for the smaller skeleton, but no sign of Papyrus. Usually the smell of burnt pasta noodles would’ve wafted through the house, the shrill shriek of the fire alarm alerting Sans to an almost fully prepared dinner. But today... today Sans awoke to silence, silence that continued when he poked his head out of his room to peer down the hall. The door leading to Papyrus’s room was closed. Why? He usually kept his door open to show off the cleanliness he was so incredibly fond of. So why was it closed? Immediately the other’s mind jumped to the worse possible conclusion; Papyrus had died in his sleep! Or worse yet, he’d woken up before a reset. If he’d had a heart it would have been racing as he tiptoed to his brother’s room, listening for any sound, any sign that Papyrus was still alive. A muffled cough sounded behind the closed door, startling the skeleton while at the same time causing a wave of relief to wash over his bones. But that begged the question further; why was his door closed? He knocked, a soft tapping of his joints against the wood. No answer. So he knocked again.  


“P-Pap..?” he asked, tentatively, choking back the worry that attempted to creep up on him.  


“Come in…” was the soft response that followed. The smaller skeleton chuckled, quickly returning to his usual self upon hearing his brother’s voice. He opened the door and slipped inside, the dots of his eyes focused on his slippers, on the carpet covering Papyrus’s floor as he attempted to act like his usual self.  


“Heheh… You know if you don’t feed me I’m gonna wither away. Y’know, turn to skin and bone… minus the skin,” Sans waited, waited for the groan, the loud exclamation of his name that came with his stupid jokes. When it didn’t come, a sweat broke out of his forehead and he finally lifted his gaze to his brother’s bed, and to his brother. Papyrus lay bundled up in his blankets, a ball of fabric in the too small race car bed. The normally orange colored perspiration had been replaced with a sickly green. Sans panicked, rushing to his brother’s side and taking the thin face in his hands. “Pap! Papyrus!” he whimpered, trying to get the other’s attention. The taller skeleton opened his sockets and pushed away the smaller’s hands with a soft whine.  


“Sans… let me sleep” he said, trying to cover his head, an action easily denied by his brother who was choking back sobs as he once again forced his brother to look at him.  


“Don’t go towards the light, Papyrus! You can’t die on me! Not like this!” he was panting, voice breaking as he spoke. He was trembling, worry and fear dripping from ever metaphorical pore. The taller of the two shook his head and glared at Sans, too tired to put up much of a fight.  


“Sans, calm down,” he said “I’m fine”  


“But… but you… y-you’re…”  


“I’m fine” he repeated, rubbing at his eye sockets with the palms of his hands “It’s just a cold… one of those silly illnesses humans get. It’s alright, Sans,”  


A cold. Right, he knew what that was. He’d seen Frisk all laid up in bed with a cold. And if a human could get sick, why not a monster? Heh… you’re stupid, Sans. “Heheh…” he chuckled though the sound was strained, nervous. Get a hold of yourself. It’s nothing serious, calm down. “I knew that,” a lie, one so bold even Papyrus would see through it… were he not distracted by sniffling and coughing. Think, Sans, think. What did Toriel do for Frisk when they were sick? Soup! But he couldn’t’ cook… in fact, he was worse than Papyrus. What about…  


“Sans..?” The taller skeleton’s voice tore Sans from his thoughts.  


“Wh-What is it bro?”  


“Could you… maybe… ready me a story?” Sans couldn’t help but smile. If there was one thing that could make Papyrus happy it was a good bed time story.  


“Course, Pap. No big deal” Now what story would be good for the great (albeit sickly) Papyrus. Sans searched the shelf of books that stretched higher than he could reach, his goal to find the perfect book for his brother. He settled on one after only a moment of searching and climbed into bed beside the sickly skeleton. “What about this one?” he asked. It was on of Papyrus’s favorites; The Little Engine That Could. Papyrus smiled, a sign that he’d made the right choice. Sans still wasn’t sure how a story would speed up the healing process but maybe a story about a determined train would fill his brother with the same determination. So read he did, with his best story telling ability. But before he could finish, the soft sound of the other snoring rang in his skull. He closed the book with a soft chuckle and slowly climbed out of the bed, careful not to awaken Papyrus. Just as he’d come in, he slipped out of the room and shut the door behind him. It was dark already. He guessed there’d be no harm in going back to sleep for… eight to ten more hours. He returned to his own room, to his own bed. Knowing Papyrus was sleeping soundly made it easier for him to fall asleep himself. 

 

Days later, after Papyrus was recovered and back to his old, overly hyper self, Sans awoke to find himself sniffling. Right, colds were contagious.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on the internet. I hope its alright.


End file.
